springtime grouchy's?

sometimes i feel like my entire existence is barely held together by a thin thread, sewn haphazardly to make a quilt that could fall apart with a slight tug. or a kid with simple blocks, putting one on top of the other in such rapid succession that the inevitable tumble or fear thereof is completely overshadowed by the enthralling nature of the act of building.

i am not math. i cannot calculate my life like chess moves and i have no idea where i'm going next at any given time.


i think i am both intrigued and repulsed by this quality. i think i like being impulsive, but sometimes when this trait is mirrored back to me, i loathe it to an extent unimaginable.


and it's only been in the past week that the blocks i've been building up in my idea of where my life is going in the year 2009 came crashing down. it's like everything tumbles at the same time; bouncing checks, rain cancels work, my ankles and knees scream that they can't take it anymore, the tractor breaks, my brakes in my car are starting to go on strike --- and i get this twitch in my eye and suddenly my time becomes so precious.
i need to get the greenhouse in working order. i have classes to prepare for, peas to plant, dogs to train, sheep to house, fences to fix, grapes to prune............
i'm starting to become exhausted and am dying for a vacation, but then that would stretch my time even thinner.


I guess on a brighter note, last wed was pretty awesome. I had a potato planting class where I got 20 bucks for playing in the gardens and answering questions, and i got my potatoes in the ground as a bonus. aaaaand someone else kinda planted them.

My sister wants to bring home a couple alpacas. You have to give them shots once a month and they need a house a bit more substantial than the shipping boxes i have the goats in at the moment. They need proper fencing. I'm running out of csa money fast.

I guess it's always going to be like this- bored all winter and thinking up ten hundred new projects for the growing season, then when spring does hit it's like a pile of bricks sending me into sore-shock and grouchy-ness with a healthy side of time crunching and a bit of dirt for dessert


but really when i think about it, would i / could i have it any other way?